The Arrival Of Methereaper
by xXMethereaperXx
Summary: Martin Light was a dead man. At least as far as the military's concerned. Having used him for the experiments he needed, they took what they wanted and threw him back into the city, a hardened criminal. After his parents are found dead, he returns to the city that death doesn't know in hopes of forming a team to take back what he lost. Will he find it in the town in the trees?
1. The Boys Are Back In Town

I know I said I'd never redo this story, but everyone that's read it is either no longer active on the site, or doesn't read anything I write anymore.

As with any author, I still have fond memories of my first story and that's the main reason I'm doing this. Another reason is, my writing, while still terrible, is much better than it was when I began this and I'm interested to see how it'll go.

I'm still deciding on what to change, most likely it will just be the female role that comes later on, as well as if I'll accept OC's for it.

I always update my account with the progress of everything I do, and I'll try to upload some character bio's at some point.

Well, I got my drinks in front of me, so let's see how much I can get done before I'm unable to type.

Let's get to the show.

* * *

Chelsea sighed and moved the food around on her lunch tray. The room was full of talking and noise, but inside she felt silent.

"Still worrying?"

She looked up to see who sat across from her.

"Yeah Flaky, I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Well," she began, dodging a thrown milk carton from across the room, "Start by explaining."

Another sigh, "Martin is the biggest loser I've met! When we were kids, he'd always start crying over nothing, and he followed me everywhere! Always asking dumb questions, never shutting up about anything! He acted like a baby, even though we're only a year apart."

"What does that matter now?"

"It matters because I know it's gonna be the same as it was before. He's gonna ruin everything!" Chelsea answered with a huff, dropping her head onto the table.

Flaky stabbed a piece of broccoli and inspected it, "It's not like everything's that much better."

Chelsea looked up, staring daggers at the porcupine.

"Admit it, if things were so good, you wouldn't be eating lunch with me everyday."

Chelsea's yellow fur darkened with the embarrassment she felt. It was true. Her Flaky weren't that popular, but they were left alone.

"He's the cause of all that though! Everyone still remembers him." she replied, shoving her tray aside.

Flaky shrugged, "And? Why's he coming back, anyway?"

"I don't know. All I was told was his parents died and he's still too young to live alone."

"That sucks."

Chelsea nodded, "As annoying as he was, it was probably suicide."

Flaky's jaw dropped, along with her fork.

Chelsea laughed nervously, "Kidding! I'm sure it was something else."

"That's not funny."

"I know, I know. I'm just so worried that this is gonna turn out being a complete disaster." she said, pulling her books onto the table to start on her homework.

Flaky finished her lunch and slid the tray beside Chelsea's, "Who knows, maybe you're overreacting. I'm sure he isn't as bad as you say he is."

"Trust me, when it comes to Martin Light, it is."

"Okay, subject change. Any closer to finding a date to the dance?"

Chelsea smiled, "I'm working on it. What about you?"

Flaky blushed, her red fur growing almost burgundy, "Well, let's say a certain football player agreed to be seen with me."

"You tramp!" Chelsea yelled, playfully shoving her, "When did become such ambitious porcupine?"

"Well, what can I say?" she asked with a shrug, the smile on her face growing by the minute, "Why don't we go to the mall today and look at dresses?"

Chelsea's smile disappeared with a sigh, "Can't. Have to wait for the wonder dork to arrive and help him move in."

"Well, maybe afterwards. It can't take all day."

Chelsea shook her head, "It will."

[][][]

Chelsea tossed her backpack on the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"Hello dear. Don't forget your cousin's coming today," her mother reminded.

Chelsea opened the fridge and looked inside, "Oh, he called me and said he'd be coming in tomorrow instead of today, so I'm gonna go to the mall with Flaky."

"Really?" she asked, turning off the faucet to the sink and moving a stack of plates into the cabinet, "Cause I just talked to him, and he said was just getting off the highway."

"Oh."

Wiping her hands on her apron, she sighed and began putting away the silverware, "Help Martin move everything into his room, then you can go to the mall."

"That's gonna take all day," she said while grabbing a soda from the shelf.

"You're overreacting."

"That's the second time I heard that today…"

Her mother shook her head, "We're the only family he has left, put yourself in his shoes. He needs a friend, and that's what you'll be. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

'Yeah, and some criminals need to be executed.'

She didn't say it out loud, she wasn't that stupid, but it was the truth. Just because he's family, didn't mean he was her responsibility.

Nonetheless, if she wanted to go to the mall, she had to help. Maybe if she did everything herself, they'd be done quicker.

Sitting on the porch, she waited. Each minute taking an eternity to pass.

She spent the time imagining what he'd be arriving in.

Escort? Taurus? Something just as embarrassing?

Changing to looks. Same white fur and black hair. Probably overweight, covered in zits and body odor.

She hadn't sighed this much since her first day of school.

From down the block came the sound of a loud engine. She stood and walked to the railing, expecting the car to continue down the road, not turning down her street. The sound grew louder, and louder before the car came into view.

A large muscle car slid around the corner with a squeal of tires before rocketing toward her house.

'No way.'

The car stopped at the curb to her house, it's perfect paint shimmering in the sun. She couldn't tell the type of car, but she knew it had the same purple paint as Flaky's dad's car.

As it sat rumbling, the driver behind the tinted windows leaned forward, looking at something behind the steering wheel.

"Well, let's get this over with," she said, walking down the steps.

Leaving the car running, the door opened and the driver climbed out.

Everything slowed down as she stared in disbelief. Stepping out was the same bear she remembered from childhood. Well, almost the same.

Instead of the unattractive person she pictured, Martin was skinny. It felt weird to admit it, but he was attractive. Standing there in frozen time, wearing black jeans with a black overshirt covering a white T. Black sunglasses against shaggy, black hair. Nothing like she pictured.

She was caught off guard.

He walked up the sidewalk, getting closer by the step.

Holding out her hand, she waited for him to stop, "Hey, Mar-"

Not stopping, or acknowledging her, he stepped aside and entered the house, leaving her to stare at his car.

Regaining control, she walked into the house as the sounds of greetings reached her from the kitchen.

"Hello, Mrs. Piederman," he said, smiling and returning her embrace.

"You can call me Sandra. Mrs. Piederman makes me feel old," she returned behind a smile.

"I just stopped in to ask if you knew where the auto parts store is. I ran into some car trouble on the way here."

"There's a nice one at the mall," she began, "It's where the park used to be, do you remember?"

"I think I can manage," still smiling.

"Actually, Chelsea was wanting to go to the mall. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Now he acknowledged her, "Sure, the more the merrier."

"Great! Also, you can use the right side of the garage. All of Kirk's tools are still there, use whatever you need to." she said as she opened a drawer and handed him a remote for the door.

"Thanks."

He turned and began walking to where Chelsea was standing, the smile disappeared as he passed.

She followed him down the steps and to the car, texting Flaky along the way. She climbed into the passenger side of the car, instinctively buckling her seatbelt.

The emblem on the glove box read 'Plymouth', a tornado with eyes glaring back at her from beside it.

Martin slammed his door, sighing at the smoke slowly rising from under the hood. Neglecting to buckle his own, he shook the shifter and swung it into first.

The engine revved loudly, the tires growling in protest as they launched forward. Shifting to second, they slowed down and turned right, heading toward the downtown district.

He went through the gears, driving as if he was in a hurry.

"So," Chelsea began, the silence growing unbearable, "What's wrong with it?"

"Oil pump and radiator hose."

"Oh."

They came to a red light, Martin sighing and shifting back into neutral. Looking at the dash he shook his head.

"Damn it," he mumbled.

He kept tapping the gas pedal to keep the oil pressure from dropping, the loud engine rumbling while the smoke returned.

"So, how does it feel to be back in the old city?"

Martin shifted back into first once the light changed and they continued their journey, "You don't have to say anything."

This wasn't anything like the Martin she remembered. He was annoying, but he was never mean or hurtful.

After parking, Chelsea climbed out while Martin opened the door and grabbed something from under the seat. She leaned in to see, but he quickly shoved it into the waist band of his pants and covered it with his shirt.

After closing the door, they began the walk inside. Martin looked around, as if trying to remember the park the building was built on.

He walked to a map and started looking for the auto store. Nodding, he started toward the elevators.

Seeing Chelsea was still behind him, he hit the button, "Go find your friends."

He walked into the elevator and the doors closed, leaving her behind.

"Jerk," she mumbled before turning to find Flaky.

[][][]

He walked into the auto store, admiring their selection of performance parts and upgrades. For the most part they had the same things as the city, but there were a few gems hidden amongst the shelves.

Martin set what he found on the counter and read the nametag of the bored looking cashier.

"Toothy's just a nickname. Anything else?" he replied as he finished scanning the boxes.

"Upper radiator hose and an oil pump for a seventy-five Duster."

Toothy clicked a few things on the computer leading to a display of engines.

"Three-Sixty," Martin said before he could ask.

"OEM's ninety-four, performance is a hundred-sixty-five." he said, tapping the screen.

"Performance."

Toothy clicked the item and a flashing 'Searching…' popped onto the screen. Several seconds later it disappeared and he searched for the hose.

"Hose is five-bucks."

"Alright." Martin said with a nod.

Toothy clicked the listing and it began searching, "Hmm. Doesn't look like we have one in stock."

"Great,"

"Do you know what it looks like? We sell regular hose, or some of the other Mopar hoses we have might fit."

"I think I could picture it."

Toothy looked around the store. Seeing no other customers, he motioned for Martin to follow him. They walked to the rows of parts behind the counter, stopping at a row of hoses.

"It's almost like a perfect L,"

Toothy looked through the hoses, eventually finding one that matched.

"I'll have to cut it down, but that'll work."

He followed Toothy to the back wall where stacks of boxes were. Martin noticed one box aside from the others, a blue and yellow 'MOMO' label on it.

"The seat for sale?"

Toothy looked in the direction he nodded and grinned, "Nah, that's mine. Ordered it last week, just came in."

"What's it going in?"

His grin grew bigger, exposing more unaligned teeth, "Let me ring you up and I'll show you."

[][][]

"I told you things would be different." Flaky said as she flicked through the dresses on the rack, seeing nothing interesting.

"But this is way different," Chelsea said, leaning against the wall, "He was never like this. He was annoying, but not a jerk."

Flaky shrugged, "That's kinda how it works. Treated like a loser as a kid has vicious side effects."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

"It's a possibility." she said, holding up a dress she found.

"No, the yellow clashes with your fur," Chelsea answered, walking to the rack, "There's never anything good here."

"Want to try another store?"

Chelsea shook her head, "Gotta find out where he ran off to. I suppose I should help him move in before it gets dark."

"Another two hours wasted looking for something we'll never find." Flaky added as they left the store.

"Let's go see if we can talk him into giving you a ride home."

[][][]

"This is your car?"

Toothy smiled as he looked over his flat black Honda, "Yup."

Martin shook his head, "Do you have to wind it before you drive?"

Toothy frowned, "Not a tuner fan?"

"It's not that, I have a Skyline back in the city. The things just so small," he answered, looking over the hatchback again, trying to find something he liked about it.

"It doesn't weigh a lot. At least half a ton less than yours. Helps with acceleration."

Martin looked across to where his car sat, "Well, you got me there. But you don't need to be first on the take off if you got muscle."

"Touché."

Toothy folded down his rear seat to make room for the box his new seat was in, "Let's go look at the plum."

Martin laughed and they walked over to the Plymouth. He pulled the keys from his pocket and opened the trunk. The large space was full to the brim with boxes and bags.

"Moving in?" Toothy asked.

Martin shoved the bags wherever they'd fit and slammed the trunk closed, "Yeah, staying with the relatives."

"Oh really?" he asked while admiring the car, "Who?"

"The Piederman's."

"How are you related to them?" Toothy asked, turning to look at him.

"My dad married Sandra's sister." Martin replied, grabbing the radiator hose and walking to the front of the car.

"Ah, related by marriage."

Martin pulled the pins from the posts before reaching under the grille to hit the release for the hood.

As he raised the hood, Toothy whistled loudly, "Now that's an engine."

Everything from the head up was chromed and glinted in the sunlight. The block of the engine was painted a bright blue and the valve covers had some overspray on them.

Martin flicked the switch for his knife and cut down the hose to fit.

"How long this take?"

"My dad did everything, I inherited from him when he died." he said.

"Sorry to hear that."

Martin shrugged, "I was taking care of myself long before then. Just another day."

He looked and seen Chelsea walking across the lot, "Looks like it's time to go."

[][][]

Martin pushed the button, causing the door to roll up on it's tracks. He backed in to the empty garage, leaving enough room between the workbench and car.

Shutting off the car, he walked to the back and opened the trunk to begin unloading the boxes he just bought.

"Yeah?" he asked when Chelsea walked to the bench.

"Mom told me to help,"

Martin looked out the open door, "See those white things in the sky? Go out there and count how many goes by."

"Seriously?"

He nodded as he dropped the bag on the bench, "Doesn't feel to good, does it?"

She walked away mumbling, having remembered the time she used the same trick on him. Only then, he'd actually done it. It was one of the few times she enjoyed his company.

Martin picked grabbed another box from the trunk, hearing the rattling of his hidden bottles inside. Lifting another out, he carried them up the stairs, leaving them in the empty room.

He looked at the freshly painted walls and hardwood floor, realizing how long it's been since he was in here. The same bed and desk rested against the far wall.

Music began playing from his pocket. Grabbing his phone, he read the 'Unlisted Number' warning on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, get there yet?"

He recognized the soft voice instantly and couldn't help smiling, "Yeah, just started moving everything in."

"Oh, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Nah, just started," he began, pausing before he continued, "You don't sound too good."

The voice laughed, "I'm fine. Just adjusting to my new medicine. It's not as potent as you were."

He looked at his arm, the needle from the blood drawing just began healing.

"It's okay though, it's easier to get. Safer for both of us."

There was several moments of silence.

"How's everyone?"

The voice laughed again, "Bradley's moping around the studio, deleting tracks and messing with the board. Rodney's out somewhere, hadn't heard from him yet."

"Tell him when he gets back that I got a line on a driver for the job."

More silence, "I'll let him know."

"Alright, I'm gonna finish unpacking then."

"Ok, I'll talk to you later then," the voice began, becoming softer on the last part, "Don't take any chances."

Martin pulled the gun from his waist and remarked on it, "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The voice sighed, "Okay. I'll let you go then. Love you."

"Love you, too." he said before the line went dead.

He returned his phone to his pocket and hid the pistol under the bed, hating this plan more and more.

* * *

Alright, seems like a good stopping point. Next chapter will continue straight from here, and more of the canon characters will be used.

It's a little longer than I try to keep my chapters, but I got carried away.

Thanks for reading, feel free to let me know what you think so far.


	2. New Kid In School

Alright, chapter 2.

* * *

Martin sighed as he slid out from under the car and tossed his wrench to the side. He jumped to his feet and cleaned the oil from his hands before grabbing his phone.

The ringing continued as he took a minute to check the caller's number. Unlisted.

"Yeah?"

A deep voice laughed from the other end of the line, "Howdy, Meth."

"Hey, Rodney. How's it going?"

"Same as usual. How's the town?" Rodney asked.

Martin sighed, " Still small. Completely different. Haven't even been around yet and I could tell."

Another laugh, "Time, my friend, is the worst enemy of all. Anyway, Lucy said you may have found a driver."

Martin leaned against the front of the car, "Yeah, I talked to a guy today. Don't know how he drives, but he could be connected enough to find someone."

"Progress already."

He let the silence stretch on before he continued, "I don't like this, man. It was better when it was just me."

"I already told you," Rodney began, the tone of his voice showing he was tired of having the same conversation, "I'm not letting you do this on your own again. You barely made it back last time. You've got a guardian angel, or something."

'Something worse.'

"That's why you're there, to get a team together. You were saying there's something with the town, anyone born from there can't die."

Martin remained focused on a stain under the bench, "Yeah, it's a well kept secret."

"There you go. You get a team together, one that can't be beaten, then you get what you're after. All goes back to normal, and you get her back."

"Yeah." That was all he could say.

"Look, I'm sorry for playing the father here, but it's for the best. Everyone misses you, and it's only been a couple hours. Imagine if you weren't coming back."

Martin nodded, "I get it."

"I gotta get back to what I was doing, just figured I'd call. We'll have to meet up soon." Rodney added, not waiting for Martin to say anything.

Martin checked the time. He'd been under the car for nearly four hours.

Sighing, he slid back under and finished tightening up the bolt he was working on. Maybe the test drive would help him relax.

**[][][]**

Chelsea sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV, finding nothing interesting. Her English book was tossed aside, having given up on it long ago.

"There's never anything good on," she mumbled, settling on a movie she came across.

Martin having come in from the garage, the house was much quieter than it was. After watching her movie in peace for awhile, the sound of a door opening pulled her away from the screen.

There were footsteps from Martin's room, the floorboards leading to the stairs creaking under each step.

'Great. At least with mom at work I don't have to say anything,' she thought.

Instead of footsteps continuing, the sound of tumbling echoed from the direction of the winding staircase.

Looking over the couch, she seen the form of Martin sprawled on the floor at the foot of the stairs. She blinked for a moment, unsure of what to do. After a minute or so, he stumbled to his feet, using the wall as support.

"You okay?"

He stood swaying on his feet, stepping forward or backward to keep from falling back on the ground. He looked around frantically, trying to find the direction the voice came from.

"Over here," she added, waving her arm to get his attention.

He blinked several times, each second losing his battle against gravity. He spoke in a jumble of words amounting to gibberish, satisfied he was saying what he was trying to.

Chelsea struggled to understand him, "Repeat, and enunciate."

Martin blinked again, "I… came down here… for something."

The smell hit her, a mixture of rubbing alcohol and black licorice.

"God, you smell like a distillery."

Martin began looking around, "Where?"

When his head turned the trail of blood leading behind his ear became visible.

Jumping up from the couch, she came running towards him.

Martin put his fists up and stumbled backwards.

"Hold on, you're bleeding."

He fought against her worried grasp and eventually gave up, allowing his head to be twisted so the cut was exposed.

"It doesn't look too bad," she said quietly.

"What're talking about? I'm gorgeous!" he slurred, the swaying growing worse and worse.

"No, the cut you idiot. It just looks like an older one reopened."

The more she looked, the more scars she seen hidden behind his hair. A long one across the back, and two perfectly spaced ones near the top of his head. Even his shoulders bore scars, the rest hidden behind his shirt.

"Oh, I remember now," he said as he began staggering toward the kitchen, eventually stopping at the fridge.

Leaning forward, he put his forehead against the freezer door and opened the right side door. Without looking in, he felt around and grabbed a bottle of water from the shelf.

Staggering back to the stairs, he waved as he passed Chelsea, "Good Morning."

He stopped and stared at the first step, deciding what to do. After a moment, he slid the bottle into his pocket and began climbing the steps on his arms and knees.

She watched as he continued, humming happily as if nothing happened.

'Well, he's still a dork,' she thought, letting the worry disappear as she returned to the couch.

"What is wrong with Martin Light?"

**[][][]**

He sat on the bed, leaning against the wall. His vision was focused on the floor and the empty, green liquor bottle that was on it's side. In his hand were the cause of this depression, and he turned them over, feeling the names engraved on them.

He had purposely hid the necklace with the dog tags in the bottom of the box, hoping he would toss them in the drawer and not look at them.

His mistake, however, was dropping them from the bundle of clothes.

One was scratched and the corner was bent. He ran his fingers over the name.

Martin "Meth" Light

P:BO "Blanco"

Classification: Terminated

Ft. Acorn Military Base

He shuddered at the memories that flooded his head. Gunshots and screaming in foreign languages filled his thoughts. The fear returned.

The second tag was different. Different enough to snap him out of his delusions, and back into the real world.

Crystal

P:BO "Blanco" -2

Classification: Euclid Containment Wing

Ft. Acorn Military Base

The more he thought of her, the more furious he grew. He slid from the bed and began rummaging in one of the few boxes left unpacked. After some digging, he found the picture that was with the tags.

On first look, it appeared to be a picture of a younger version of himself in camouflage fatigues among a group of children roughly his age. In all, there were twelve of them. However, it was not him in the picture, but Crystal.

"No," he whispered.

If he kept thinking about it, he wouldn't be able to control himself. The last time he thought about it, he made a bad decision and nearly died from it.

As much as he disliked putting other people in danger, Rodney was right. He couldn't do this alone. He needed to find some experience help. If only there was anyone left from the team who hadn't been terminated or brainwashed.

"Hey, are you awake?"

He shook his head, just now noticing he'd been awake all night, "Nope."

"Bus leaves at seven-thirty. Gives you about an hour to get ready."

He shook his head, "We'll take the car, it'll be quicker."

**[][][]**

The car rolled out of the garage, back in fully working order. Martin tapped the front of the radio and the classic, factory looking dash flipped down, revealing an aftermarket touch screen radio. The screen showed an animation of Cherry Blossoms in a breeze while the word 'Welcome' flashed several times.

Plugged his phone into the radio and music started playing, the subwoofers in the trunk thumping loudly. He waited for Chelsea, wishing he'd remembered to get cigarettes the day before.

He checked his wallet and made sure his fake I.D was there, deciding he'd pick some up later.

The door opened and the dome light kicked on. He didn't look away from the front of the car, instead he waited for the light to turn off.

He shifted into first and eased off the clutch, waiting until they were on the street to hit the gas. Shifting to second, he swung around the corner and corrected the steering as the rear end slid.

"Is it in the same place?"

She nodded, "Yeah, only thing that hasn't changed."

He reached over and shut off the power to the amps in the trunk. His head was still pounding from last night.

"You seem to be in a better mood."

"How so?"

"Well," she began, "You're not acting like the jerk you were yesterday. I was expecting to be riding the bus today."

"The day's still young."

The silence drug on for a little while, the sound of the revving engine the only sign they could still hear.

"You know," he began, downshifting to turn onto a smaller, one way road, "I told myself I'd hate you for when we were kids."

She didn't say anything.

"But that's just not who I am anymore. Forgive and forget." he said, once again easing onto the throttle.

"And what are you now?"

He shook his head, "Some times, I don't even know."

**[][][]**

Martin walked into the classroom, headphones around his neck, and a notebook under his arm. He took a quick glance around the room.

Toothy was sitting in the middle of the room, talking to a rather attractive chipmunk. Beside her was a red porcupine, and in front of her a blue skunk. His plan was to head to the empty desk in the back corner.

However, it wouldn't work like that.

In the front row was an orange-ish colored bear with a terrible afro. He, much like the yellow rabbit and green bear was wearing a yellow jersey. As Martin passed, however, he stuck out his leg, hoping he'd trip on it.

Time seemed to stop, and Martin looked down. Seeing the bear's leg, he looked to the right and seen the teacher wasn't at his desk.

He stepped over with his right leg and kicked as hard as he could with his left. The kick caught him directly behind his knee cap, causing him to cry out. He was lucky Martin was careful enough to catch it in a spot that wouldn't cause any permanent damage.

He fell from his chair, wincing and clutching his left kneecap, while the other two in the yellow jerseys instantly rose from their desks.

Martin instinctively dropped his notebook and felt around the back of his pants.

"Damn," he mumbled, raising his fists.

The rabbit was the first to approach, swinging with his left. Martin dodged it easily, and brought his knee into his stomach. However, while he was preoccupied, the green bear managed to hit him in the right side of his head.

Martin stumbled to the side, his obliviousness to the attack making it sting all the more. Toothy had stood up, but seeing who else had reacted, had regained his seat.

'Some help he'd have been,' Martin thought to himself, noticing everyone in the room had either moved along the wall or remained in their seats.

The rabbit approached again, the bear using Martin's lack of focus on him to swing. Martin caught the attack at the last second and managed to lean out of the way. The bear's missed punch managed to grab something from around his neck. He didn't notice, so he quickly pocketed it and returned to the fight.

An older bear walked in, wearing a red house robe. A bit out of the believed dress code for a teacher, but whatever.

"What's going on?!" he yelled, bringing an end to the fight.

They all stopped but continued watching each other.

He looked at the bear on the floor, who was about to his feet but depended on the desk's ability to be a desk.

"You four, to the office. Clark, you help David."

The rabbit mumbled, but obeyed, allowing the bear to put his arm around his neck to keep his balance.

As they left the room, the green bear walked slower, allowing time to inspect the object he pocketed. He knew the distance to the office all too well, and once they turned the corner, he reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a chain, now broken, with two dog tags on it. He read the first one, the name Crystal not unlocking any memories. The second, however, made him lose his breath.

He thought he looked familiar, but didn't think anything of it. He held his dog tag beside Martin's.

Fred "Flippy" Lawrence

P:BO "Verde"

Classification: Under Surveillance

Ft. Acorn Military Base

He was frozen, so caught up at the coincidence he nearly missed the announcement over the intercom.

"Fred Lawrence, to the principal's office. Fred Lawrence."

He let go of his own and pocketed the others.

**[][][]**

After nearly an hour of waiting, they were released from the office with a warning. Their excuses, 'Just boys, being boys' seemed to work on the below average intelligence of Principal Lumpy.

They walked for a while, all realizing they had the same class next.

"Hold up," Flippy said, causing Clark and David to hault, while Martin turned around.

"You fight pretty good, where you from."

Martin looked at the group, unsure how this would work out, "Dunwich."

Clark laughed while David shook his head, "That explains it."

"I didn't know why you were reaching behind you're back, but now it makes sense."

"You got a name?" asked Flippy.

"Martin. Some call me Meth."

"Alright, Meth," Flippy began, the others cracking their fingers and necks, "We could go back and forth all year, or we could settle this now."

Martin looked at them for awhile, "How so?"

"We call it the gauntlet," Clark said moving toward him, "We have a little contest, first I hit you, then you hit me. Whoever takes it the best wins."

"You play against all of us," Flippy added, "You do this, and everything's settled."

Martin took glances at each of them and nodded.

Clark put his hands behind his back, "You can go first."

Martin took a deep breath and swung, his fist colliding with the rabbits jaw, sending him shuffling backwards.

"Four," David said, counting the number of steps he moved.

"I got three," Flippy added.

Martin followed suit, keeping his fists behind his back. Clark swung, causing a barrage of stars to enter his field of view. He only moved back two steps.

"Alright," he said, moving out of the way, "Now David."

David didn't wait, he swung instantly, his attack fast but unbalanced. Martin didn't move at all.

"Aw, damn," he said as Martin's attack caught him on the side of the head, enough for him to lose balance and fall over.

"No surprise there," Flippy said while taking his stance.

Martin focused taking a few moments before striking. Flippy moved a step, but no more.

'Nowhere near as bad as I remembered,' Flippy thought.

"You're telling me," replied a deeper, rougher voice.

Flippy swung, the force of the swing sending Martin backwards, falling to one knee.

"Two out of three," Clark said.

Flippy nodded, "Alright. Congratulations, you're the first to succeed on their first try."

"Yeah," Clark added with a laugh, "Disco had to do it twice."

"Hey, I was sick the first time," he mumbled.

Clark shook his head, "We've told you before, dance fever isn't a sickness."

"Anyway," Flippy said, helping Martin to his feet, "Name's Fred. Flippy works too. David's Disco, and Clark's Cuddles."

"Just so you know, the ladies came up with that nickname." he added.

So they continued their walk to class, Cuddles and Disco asking Martin questions while Flippy hung back.

'Why is Martin Light here?' he thought absentmindedly.

The deep voice replied, "Maybe things will get interesting for a change."

'Yeah.'

"Don't forget what we agreed to, today."

Flippy nodded, not entirely happy with the agreement, 'Yeah, I remember.'

* * *

All right, good stopping point.

Wanted to get another chapter up while I'm working on UD, so I kinda rushed through it. After this I have to do some other uploads on stories I've been pushing aside, so for the few reading this the next chapter will be a little late.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
